So Go On and Tear Me Apart
by Lipstick Lullabiesx
Summary: I have my fathers, my ferret, and my voice. I don't need anything else to get out of this cow town.


My name is Rachel Barbara Berry. I was born in Lima, Ohio, raised in Lima, Ohio, and I have always been too grandiose for Lima, Ohio. I'm the girl that everybody hates; big talent, big nose, big personality, big voice to match my big heart. I'm the girl who gets everything her daddies can manage to get her, the girl who can play volleyball and play piano, and play with your heart (not that I'm ever given the chance).

I'm the girl who gives everything one hundred percent. I ace every test, hit every note, and never miss a step. I'm entirely perfect in every way (provided we aren't being shallow and including my looks in this equation, because they are far from perfect. My nose is too big, my hair is too dark, and my eyes are too wide). I can recite up to the fifteenth digit of pi and every single line of dialogue from every musical released from 1930 to 1985. Basically, I've got a charmed life.

So what if I get slushie facials every day (sometimes two or three times, but hey, who's counting?) So what if no one wants to talk to me, be my friend, or even pick up my pencil if it falls? When I make it big, I'll never need any of these people ever again.

So what if I feel empty every day and every night? I have my fathers, my ferret, and my voice. I don't need anything else to get out of this cow town.

I don't need anyone to approve of my animal sweaters and argyle knee socks. I don't need anyone to toss me a compliment or nod at my presence in public. All I need is all I have.

What a load of crap.

You know what I need? I need some kind of miracle that would fix everything that went wrong in my life. I was supposed to be popular (for the right reasons, not for being hated). I was supposed to get the boys that I wanted, be head cheerleader, get the lead role in every play. Instead, what did I get? Slushies thrown in my face, graffiti on my locker, and pornography in the bathroom stalls. Three boyfriends (ever) - if any of them could be called that – all of whom hurt me in some way. A cheerleading coach who hates my very existence despite the fact that I've never spoken a word to her, and shared membership in a glee club that hates me for everything that they think I am.

No one sees the 'at home' Rachel who wears sweatpants and tshirts. Nobody hears the laughter that falls from my lips when I watch Family Guy. Nobody knows how hard it is for me to have to look my fathers straight in the eye and tell them that yeah, I had a great day at school and no, I don't have any plans. Nobody wants to.

Because nobody gives me the chances that I deserve, nobody knows how I feel when it's just me with my go-getter attitude chipped off and I'm bare naked in front of some mental mirror, trying to understand just what I did to make everything so…wrong.

You want to know a secret? I never loved Finn. I never loved Jesse. I never even cared romantically for either of them, and Puck was…I don't even know what Puck was. Rebellion? An attempt at fixing myself? Hell, I'll probably never figure him out.

Jesse was the first person to understand my determination. He has my ambition, feels the same fire burning through his veins. He knows what his chances at making it big are, and he knows that desperate times call for desperate measures. I think that was what made me go after him, that and the fact that this attractive man who had never met me and had all of this talent inside of him was suddenly so infatuated with me. When we were over, I was relieved. I don't mean I wasn't hurt because that hurt more than any kind of abuse I've ever been through. But being with Jesse matured and mellowed me. He taught me a lot about finding myself and not compromising anything for other people, and for that I thank him.

Finn and Puck? They were my male leads. They tried to protect me, heal me, love me. They have common backgrounds – fatherless football playing fathers to-be with more talent than anyone knew they had and a subconscious need for acceptance, no matter what the cost. Finn has an innocent naivety about him that every girl I've ever met has fallen for, and his heart is almost made of gold. Puck is the self-proclaimed badass that actually does care about people no matter how much he denies it. Together they're a duo out of an S.E. Hinton novel waiting to be published. When it comes to me, neither of them were right and they never will be, no matter how hard I try to convince myself.

Another commonality the two have is Quinn Fabray.

Quinn Fabray, the blonde hair hazel eyed head cheerleader and girlfriend to the quarterback. Quinn Fabray, who slept with her boyfriend's best friend, got pregnant, and lied about it. Quinn Fabray, who was easily forgiven as soon as Beth was born and her Cheerios uniform was back on. Quinn Fabray, who I've been in love with since the first time I saw her.

She's the same girl who started calling me Treasure Trail and Manhands on my first day of school. The same girl who has thrown slushies on me and drawn pornographic pictures of me with permanent markers in the bathrooms. She's the same girl that over half of my ex-boyfriends are in love with, and that's in addition to the rest of the school, as well. She has everything I was supposed to have (she also has my heart, my soul, and everything else I have to give).

Quinn Fabray isn't someone who you can just fall in love with. You can't just walk up to her and confess your attraction, especially not if you're a girl. She's the one you pine after throughout high school and then look back fondly on once you're all grown up and moved on. She's that one unobtainable girl that will always reel you back in with just a look and then leave you high and dry as she moves on to her next victim.

She's the Regina George of William McKinley High School. We all worship the ground she walks on and pray silently that she'll choose to sit next to us at lunch (she doesn't come to you, though. You go to her and you hope to whatever god you believe in that she doesn't laugh in your face or sic Santana on you).

She's done all of these crazy horrible things to me and I still can't get enough of the shine of her hair, the glint in her eyes, the smooth porcelain skin of her legs. When she speaks I don't dare interrupt because I know that her words few and far between outside of the practices that she runs and her celibacy club. Every single thing about her drives me crazy and makes me want to brush my skin against hers (somewhere, anywhere, doesn't matter where). Sometimes she'll smile in my direction (but not at me. Never at the lowly Rachel Berry) and for a moment I find hope.

Then reality crashes down on me and I'm back in this vortex of perfection that I can't get a handle on and seeking an impossible and faraway love.

What hurts more than any thrown beverage, drawing, or rumor, though, isn't that Quinn will never love me back. The thing that makes me break down every night is the knowledge that Quinn can never know how I feel about her.

I can never tell the only person that I've ever loved that I would give her anything in existence if it would make her happy. She will never know just how loved she is, and I know that sometimes even Quinn Fabray, as perfect as she is, has moments where she feels worthless. It should be me sweeping her off of her feet and out of her funk then, but it never has been and it never will be.

Poor, sad Rachel, right?

The truth of the matter is that I'm always going to love Quinn Fabray. I'll never be the beautiful straight girl who has everything going for her and more people rooting for her success than hairs on her head. I'll never be the girl that goes to sleep and dreams of a husband and children. No, Rachel Berry dreams of dimly lit stages with solo spotlights and a blonde haired woman in the audience with eyes for only the heroine.

Jesse St. James once told me that our dreams all have a basis in reality. That was the first time he ever lied to me (if you don't count the whole 'I switched to McKinley all for you', spiel). The one dream I want more than anything will never be a reality.

I'm going to star on Broadway. I have all the confidence in the world in that fact. I'm going to be a huge star and all of these people that are abusing me today will be nothing. I'll never have to see any of them again and that's the one thing that keeps me going.

It's also the one thing that holds me back.

So what if I'm going to be reach every one of the goals I've had since I was old enough to talk? So what if I'll be famous and popular and rich and wanted by men and women worldwide? I'll never have Quinn Fabray, and she's the one thing that I would give it all up for.


End file.
